by Pedro Urvi
“Defeated,” Gisli admitted. “Keep going. You’ve done very well,”
Viggo got to his feet. Gisli’s words were a great encouragement. He gave him a nod and then the same to Loke, who winked at him and smiled.
He went on along the path. The fight had left him breathless and tired. As he walked, he stretched his arms and legs to relax them and get back the energy he was sure to need. Nor was he mistaken. In the middle of the path two other figures were waiting: strange figures armed with staves. One of them was a woman, the other a child. Viggo was surprised when he came close and recognized them. The woman was Annika, and the child was no child at all but Enduald, the dwarf.
“My rivals?” he asked in puzzlement.
“We are,” Annika said, and reached for a staff from behind her. On it were silver engravings. It was like the one Sigrid used, but thinner. Annika grasped it with both hands and took up a defensive position. Enduald glared at Viggo and showed him his own staff, which shone with a strange light... Viggo realized that it was... magic! He remembered what Lasgol had said about Enduald, that he was an enchanter. Did enchanters fight? Didn’t they spend their time enchanting objects, like their Specialists’ attire and their medallions? He felt a shiver run down his spine and knew that the dwarf was going to be a formidable opponent.
“Ready?” Annika asked him. Her eyes were half-closed and aggressive. It surprised him to see her like this, because she was by far the pleasantest of all the Elders. In fact, he had never before seen her wielding a weapon.
“Yes, ready.”
Annika attacked with her staff. It was a direct attack, aiming for his chin, and if it had caught him it would have sent him to sleep. But he tilted his head, and the cylindrical point of the staff brushed past his ear. Annika twirled it skillfully and delivered a circular blow to his head, so that he had to duck like lightning. The tip of the staff brushed his hair. Annika made two more attacks, and Viggo realized that he was in serious trouble. The Elder was an expert in the use of that particular weapon.
He took a step back. He needed to think of a strategy. Knives against staves... he had not been trained for this eventuality. They had practiced against sword and shield, axes both long and double-handed, knives and axe against knife and bow – but not against a staff. As a weapon it did not look too dangerous, but he knew at once that in Annika’s hands it would cost him the test. He concentrated even more. She attacked, whirling the staff above her head with both hands, and this puzzled him. The staff came down abruptly on his head with tremendous force. He blocked it by crossing his knives, and there came a tremendous blow on his wrists and arms.
He took two steps back, howling in pain and shook his arms. It had been a bad idea to block the staff. He would have to dodge it instead. He got ready for the next attack, but Annika waited. What was she waiting for? And then he noticed Enduald, who was uttering a series of strange words unobtrusively as he moved his own staff in circles in front of his small body.
He knew instinctively that he must not let him finish. He hurled himself at Enduald and suddenly saw that his knives were turning a deep red. What did this mean? He began to feel a strange, intense heat in his hands, which after a moment turned into a burning sensation. He took a step toward Enduald and the knives, which were now like burning embers, scorched his hands. Unable to stand the pain of holding them in his hands, he was forced to let them fall. Enduald smiled in victory.
“Bloody magic!” Viggo shouted.
Annika attacked the unarmed Viggo, who moved like a snake, sliding over the snow and dodging the blows left and right. He managed to get out his long stabbing knives in time to block a direct blow to his nose and counterattacked by pressing Annika, who fought back with impressive agility and expertise.
Enduald cast another spell on Viggo’s weapons as he tried unsuccessfully to mark Annika. There came two blue flashes on the knives, and suddenly he felt his hands turning icy. When he looked at his knives he saw that they were freezing, and so were his gloves and hands. He reacted at once and threw his knives on to the ground before he lost his hands from the cold.
Enduald smiled maliciously. Viggo cursed and rolled to one side to avoid Annika’s attacks. He stayed down and reached for his belt behind his back. Annika hurled herself at him, but instead of blocking the attack, he rolled over his head in Enduald’s direction. The enchanter began to cast a spell which he was unable to finish. Viggo came out of his somersault, then without stopping, threw his throwing dagger with his left hand. Enduald saw it coming for his throat and tried to deflect the blow with his crook, but he was not fast enough. The knife hit him on his Adam’s apple, leaving a red mark. He started to cough and choke. The knife was a marking one. It did not kill, but it hurt.
“Enduald!” Annika cried, seeing that her partner was unable to breathe.
Viggo half-closed his eyes. Annika took a step toward Enduald instead of him, and he smiled. With a whiplash movement he threw his other throwing dagger at her with his right hand. Annika realized what he had done and tried to deflect it with her staff. She grazed the knife, but not enough to deflect it completely, and the knife hit her on the shoulder, leaving a red mark.
“Well done,” she admitted.
“Thanks.”
“Go on. I’ll look after Enduald.” She bent over to attend to the dwarf, who was suffering from the blow.
Viggo gave her a nod, picked up his knives and went on along the path. He was more tired than he had thought. All the tension he had been through and the fighting had affected him badly, but there was only one more obstacle left and he was not going to fail it. He had come this far, and nothing was going to stop him. He crossed the forest without trouble and saw its end, only ten paces ahead. He stopped. It was too easy. There was no-one in sight, but they were not going to let him come out just like that. He reached for his curved knives and prepared himself inwardly. He took a step warily, crouching, looking in every direction, but he could not see much, what with the night and the snow which was still falling. The strength of the icy wind in his face stopped him hearing anything from the east. He took another step and then stood still. If he could not hear anything from the east... He turned in that direction. A shadow appeared from the forest and came down on him with a tremendous leap. He reacted instinctively, blocking with his two knives, and rolled to one side.
A figure dressed completely in white stayed squatting in front of him. It was holding two curved knives like his own.
The figure nodded. “Viggo.”
He returned the nod. “Ma’am.”
Engla straightened up and showed him her knives.
“The last obstacle,” said Viggo.
“If you want to get out of the forest, you need to defeat me.”
Viggo sighed deeply. He knew he could not beat his Teacher in a one-to-one fight; she was too good. She had taught him everything he knew. Well, not everything: there were a couple of things he had learnt by himself. This encouraged him. He might still have a chance.
Elder and pupil looked at one another and began to walk in a circle, getting one another’s measure. Viggo shook his arms and got ready for the lethal dance they were preparing to perform. Engla smiled maliciously and attacked. The knives struck, and sparks flew. With amazing speed and expertise, both opponents attacked and blocked in flashing sequences of movements. The bodies moved nimbly, with masterly coordination. Every attack met a defense, every defense a counterattack which came at lightning speed. The slightest error and everything would be over.
Engla blocked and took a step back.
“You’ve improved a lot, pupil.”
“Thank you, Ma’am. I’ve trained a lot.”
Engla smiled. She knew perfectly well that her pupil had practiced day and night.
They exchanged more thrusts, stabs, feints and trick movements. Neither could mark the other, but Viggo was beginning to feel his arms tiring. The previous fights, and the weather, had weakened him. For her part, Engla appeared as
fresh as a young girl, which Viggo found admirable considering her age. He decided to draw from his knowledge of the slums to try and tilt the fight to his side. He launched a deceptive attack on her head with his knives, followed by a low kick to her supporting foot. She saw it coming and moved her leg, leaving him unbalanced. With a fleeting movement she made the knife fly out of his left hand.
“Damn!” he cried, and tried to defend himself with the other, but Engla, with great skill, disarmed him.
He took two steps back, reached behind him and took out his long knives. Engla smiled. She dropped her own knives and took out her long ones.
“Let’s go on,” she said to her pupil.
They renewed their deadly dance, like two snakes each trying to bite the other’s neck. Viggo tried throwing himself on the ground to sweep her off her feet with a low kick, but she gave an agile leap and his trick came to nothing. Very tired by now, he ducked, and as he attacked Engla he threw a handful of snow and mud in her eyes. The Elder covered herself with her forearm. Viggo attacked with the fierceness of a tiger and almost got her, but failed and was left breathless. His strength was running out.
She counterattacked. With two masterful moves she disarmed him again, so that he had to retreat with a somersault. He crouched and reached behind his back for his throwing daggers.
“Tricks won’t help you with me.”
“We’ll see about that, Ma’am.”
Engla moved forward to the kill, and Viggo threw his two daggers with a whiplash movement of his arms. Both knives flew toward her torso, but the Elder deflected them with her two knives.
“Hell...”
“Skill will always trump tricks,” Engla said, and moved forward to end the fight.
With his right hand, Viggo took out his own throwing dagger from his left sleeve. With Engla nearly on top of him, he threw.
Engla blocked the attack short. His dagger had hit her in the right forearm. She looked at it and saw blood dripping.
“That’s a non-statutory weapon,”
“Tricks sometimes trump skill.”
“Poison?”
Viggo nodded. “Sweet Death.”
Engla nodded, and then smiled. “Well done. Nobody’s defeated me in the last ten years.”
He gave her a sarcastic smile. “That’s because there hasn’t been anybody like me here.”
“That’s very true. You’ve got a lot of potential. Don’t go astray and follow the wrong path.”
He shrugged. “I’ll try, but I can’t make any promises.”
“Test passed. You can go back to the Lair.”
“Thank you, Ma’am,” said Viggo, and offered her the antidote he himself had prepared and carried with him, as was the rule when using poisons.
Engla drank it, then looked hard at him.
“It’s not that I don’t trust you, but I’m going to get Annika to prepare me another.”
Viggo laughed out loud. “Yeah, that’d be best.”
Chapter 47
The Wildlife Test took place over the three days. The first candidate to be called was Erika. With a broad smile, as was usual in her, she set off to do the test. She did not look particularly worried, even though like all of them, she probably was. Lasgol and her other partners wished her luck. They could not see where Gisli was taking her; all he said was that they were going to visit some animals of the area, and they would come back once Erika had proven her skill with them.
“She’ll do really well,” Luca commented to Lasgol.
“Yeah, she’s very good, and she’s studied a lot.”
“And not only in Wildlife,” Axe pointed out, “but in Nature too.”
“Oh, has she?”
“Yup. The other day I was bitten by a snake I didn’t know. I got a real fright, and she helped me. She bandaged the wound and gave me a potion in case it got infected. I was very nervous, thinking it might have been poisonous. She assured me it wasn’t, but to make me feel better she put together a general antidote for me. She told me Nature was her weakness, and she loved studying poisons and antidotes.”
“Well, if she knows so much about animals and antidotes, that’s a great combination,” Luca said.
“She’ll come in very handy for us,” Lasgol agreed.
They waited for Gisli and Erika to come back. When they arrived, Gisli went to have a word with Sigrid, while Erika passed them on her way to the Lair and gave them the thumbs-up and a broad smile.
“She did it!” cried Lasgol.
“Looks like it,” Luca agreed. He was feeling very happy for her.
The second day they called Luca. Lasgol and Axe, saw him off with words of encouragement, and he smiled at them in gratitude. Lasgol was sure he would pass; he was very good and had worked hard all year. Unfortunately, there were no guarantees with the Rangers – and still less with the Specialists – so that anything might happen.
Sigrid explained the test to him. He had to show his prowess as Man Hunter, chasing and catching three dangerous fugitives. Unfortunately the three fugitives turned out to be Ivar, Engla and Gisli, and Luca had a really hard time hunting them. In addition, the three of them turned on him and would not let themselves be caught, so that he was forced to work really hard, not only to locate them in the forest but to catch them. With Ivar, he had a particularly bad time and was almost eliminated. With Engla it was even harder, as both her trail and she herself vanished as if by magic, But Luca forced himself to the limit and managed to catch her with a trap he had prepared with extreme caution, and which the Elder in Expertise failed to see. Finally, he had to face Gisli, and for this he was provided with a bloodhound and a hawk. And even so, he came very close to failing, because Gisli was a master at hiding trails and vanishing in the depths of the dense forests. With the help of his two companions he located Gisli at last and caught him, even though the Elder resisted and he had to fight him. He did very well, and Gisli declared the test complete.
Luca went back to the Lair, leaving his friends uncertain as to whether or not he had passed the test.
Axe was next, and unfortunately, he did not have good luck. He started the Tireless Explorer Test well, but things became more and more complicated as he went on. Annika, Engla and Gisli had prepared ambushes at different points within the forest. He found Annika’s ambush and was able to go around it and come out victorious. He went on exploring the forest and met Engla, but lost the fight with the Elder. Even so, he was told to continue, and in the final part he was confronted with the trap Gisli had prepared. He was unable to go around it, and was eliminated. Gisli told him to go back to the Lair, and he did so with defeat in his eyes. When he met Lasgol on the way, he put his thumb down. He had not made it.
The following day, the third, after such a disheartening result, came Lasgol’s turn.
“Go and get Ona, and we’ll meet in the Wailing Forest,” his Master told him.
Lasgol looked at Gisli in surprise. Practically no-one went to that particular forest, because it was very dense and hence very difficult to cross. Besides, as its name indicated, it was not a pleasant place. The winter wind passing through the trees made a strange, wailing sound. Nobody knew whether it sounded more like human laments or those of animals, but they were certainly wails of lamentation. It was a very curious phenomenon. Lasgol felt uneasy at the thought that the test had to take place there.
He came back with Ona, who was delighted to go for a stroll, and walked beside him like a huge kitten of the snows. The snowflakes were falling heavily on the landscape and her fur, but she did not mind. The sky was not very grey, so that the light which bathed the scenery was clear. It was cold, but not too cold. He took a deep breath and felt good. The snowy landscape was beautiful, and he felt safe with Ona beside him. He stroked her head, and she rubbed herself against his leg in a sign of affection.
“Today we’re going to pass the test,” he assured the panther.
Ona gave a small growl and looked at him with her turquoise cat’s eyes. The s
nowflakes made her fur shine.
Lasgol smiled at her. “My, you’re beautiful.”
The snow panther rubbed herself against Lasgol again. She liked Lasgol’s petting and whispering.
Sigrid was waiting for them at the entrance to the forest. “Beautiful animal,” she said.
“So she is.”
“Have you trained her well?”
“Yes, Mother Specialist.”
“Whispering to a great cat isn’t something within the reach of all.”
“I’ve been lucky. Ona’s very good.”
Sigrid smiled. “I wish you both luck.”
“Thank you, Mother Specialist.”
“Your case is special. You’re going to have to show your prowess in two Specialties: that of Beast Whisperer and that of Tireless Tracker. Hence your test will be more complex than those of the others.”
“Huh,” said Lasgol.
“That’s only fair.”
“I know.”
“You’ll have to overcome five obstacles and come out of the forest undefeated. To move on from one obstacle to the next, you’ll have to follow the trail. If you lose it, you fail. Is that understood?”
“Yes, Mother Specialist.”
“Go ahead,” said the leader of the Shelter, and pointed to the forest.
Lasgol took a deep breath. He let out the air in his lungs and entered the tangled forest.
The trail was clear the moment he walked in: it led northeast. He tapped his thigh three times to let Ona know she had to walk beside him, and the panther fell into step with him at once. He went over his weapons; he was carrying a short bow and his Ranger’s knife and axe. In the forest the short bow was more valuable than the compound one. As for the long one, it had to be discounted completely. He tied the Ranger’s scarf over the lower part of his face. He was wearing winter gear, white with brown spots.
